A Girl Can Dream
by Charlief206
Summary: Sherlock distracts Molly from her work. Molly has her fantasy came true.


Molly Hooper was working hard to finish her paper work. ll the experiments had been completed on her new assessment, but as she worked she discovered something was missing. A single note paper was gone from the file. Molly rushed out of her office and into the lab.

All the lab stations were cover with scraps of paper, some blank, others with just one random word. Of course none of the paper meant anything to Molly...they were all things Sherlock left behind. She didn't dare touch them, but what choice did she have? She needed to find her notes. Right as her hands touched the table, Sherlock burst through the door.

"Don't touch those." He said casually as he walked over to his favorite microscope, taking a slide out of his pocket and sliding it into place. Sherlock looked at the slide for about five seconds before he stood up. "I knew it. I really am a genius." He turned to Molly. "You left you notes on the far counter." Sherlock pointed to a single paper on the other side of the room, far away from everything he was working on.

Molly quickly walked over to grab it, then moved toward her office. Before going back inside, she turned to look at Sherlock. "Thank you." Sherlock watched as Molly disappeared back into her office. It was very unusual for Molly to ignore Sherlock, leaving him a little lonely. Finally, Sherlock turned back to his microscope. After a few more minutes Molly came back out with another folder, walked over to a lab station, and started working.

Sherlock looked up at her. He had never seen her work so much, not without stopping to talk to him. He walked over to Molly. "What are you working on?" He inquired

Molly looked up at him and took a slow breath. Though she was trying her hardest, she couldn't help but stare into his deep blue eyes. "Nothing, just catching up on some work." It took all of Molly's willpower to peal her eyes away and get back to her work. Sherlock hummed in agreement, looking at the open file and carefully flipping through the contents.

It didn't take long for something to catch Sherlock's eye. He took two slides and one of the papers and went back to his microscope. Molly watched him move away curiously. He most not have a case to work on, she thought. Her mind started to wander as she looked at him work. Oh, how she longed for him to notice her, for him to touch her.

As the seconds ticked by, her thoughts got further and further from reality. Molly imagined Sherlock taking her in his arms, telling her that she was all he wanted, that if he had her he would never be bored again.

"Molly!?" Sherlock shouted in his fifth attempt to get her attention. Molly shook her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts and looking at Sherlock. "Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, looking a little annoyed that he had to stop what he was doing to get her attention.

"I'm fine," Molly said quickly, turning to the pile of folders Sherlock held in his hands. "What are you doing with my folders?" She asked, a little annoyed herself. Sherlock was always getting into her things.

"This is all the work you had to catch up on because of me right?" Molly nodded "Good. I finished it all to make up for taking up so much of your time these past few weeks."

"Thank you." Molly had to remind herself to breath, Sherlock's voice was so soothing and, well, distracting to Molly, "but you didn't have to do that."

Sherlock shrugged. "I had nothing else to do." He set down the folders, and his phone started to buzz. Flipping it open, he turned and grabbed his coat. "Thanks for the distraction." He said as he walked out the double doors.

Once he was gone Molly finally breathed out, her shoulders slouching. She wished Sherlock didn't make her so nervous, but there was no way to fix that. Sighing, she slowly went back to work, but that wouldn't last for long.

A few days later Sherlock came back in. He never talked to Molly, just focused on his work. The days passed, and with each day Sherlock got more frustrated and Molly's concentration went out the window. Every time Sherlock walked in the room, Molly imagined him taking her in his arms and kissing her passionately, then taking her right there in the lab.

Molly was so distracted that she started losing things, and one morning before Sherlock arrived she went down to the morgue looking for an evidence bag. Why did she let Sherlock distract her to the point that she started leaving things in random places? She walked over to a filing cabinet and started rummaging through it. When she didn't find the bag there, she started looking in the desk that sat in the corner next to the filling cabinet.

Molly was leaning across the desk when Sherlock appeared behind her. "Looking for this?" He dangled an evidence bag in front of her face. Molly half-turned to look at him, but stopped when she felt how close he was to her.

"Thank you." She reached up to grab it, but Sherlock pulled it away, making it so Molly had to turn around to reach it. Slowly, she turned, trying to stay up against the desk so she didn't bump into him. Once she had maneuvered herself all the way around, she reached again for the bag, but before her fingers could brush it, Sherlock had dropped the bag on the desk, and his hands were tangled in her hair. He pulled Molly's face toward his and kissed her square on the lips.

Molly's knees went weak, but Sherlock moved his left arm to her waist, supporting her. Molly felt Sherlock smile against her lips and felt his body shake as he laughed at how easily she turned to jelly at his touch. It was like Molly's fantasies come to life, but then Sherlock pulled back, looking at her. She didn't want him to stop, she wanted _time_ to stop so she could live in this moment forever, but she knew that could never happened. So there she was, half standing, half being held up by Sherlock's arms around her. She waited for Sherlock to say something about how he was bored again or that she was just an experiment of his. But what came next she could have never imagined.

Sherlock looked deeply into Molly's dazzling brown eyes. "Do you want me, Molly Hooper?" The question came out so calmly that Molly was at a loss for words. Of course she wanted him...that was all she ever thought about. Molly looked down and nodded. Sherlock slid his right hand down the side of her face and under her chin, pulling her face up so she was looking into his eyes, "Tell me. Tell me that you want me and only me."

Molly looked into Sherlock's eyes, blazing like blue flames, so powerful they started to melt her insides, slowly consuming all of her. Molly took a deep breath, then finally said, "Of course I want you, Sherlock Homes." The words weren't even out of her mouth all the way before Sherlock leaned down and captured her lips once more. His kisses now were harder than before, almost eager, as if he would die if he didn't have her right then. For a moment Molly actually believed he was going to take her right there in the morgue, but then he pulled his lips away and whispered in her ear, "221B. 7 o'clock. Be there."

Sherlock kissed Molly one more time before he let her go and quickly walked out of the room. Once Sherlock was gone Molly slid to the ground, no strength left to hold her up. "Did that really just happen?" She asked herself over and over. Sherlock Homes would never kiss her, let alone ask her out.

Molly couldn't concentrate at all for the rest of the day. Around two o'clock, she finally gave up and went home. There was nothing there to do either, so she locked herself in the bathroom and took a bath, letting the warm water distract her. She lay there until the water was cold, finally getting out when goosebumps started to rise on her arms. Molly dried off quickly and moved into her closet. What would a girl wear to a man's flat late at night?

Molly tried on every outfit she had before deciding on a simple sundress. It was the middle of summer, and nothing else looked good. Once she was dressed, she went back into the bathroom and pulled her hair up in a tight ponytail, then put on some eyeliner and a touch of lip stick. She had another hour before she had to be there, but she was losing her mind waiting.

To kill time, Molly decided to walk to Sherlock's flat, about 2 miles away. The walk wasn't terribly long, and hopefully it would help distract her. Ten minutes to seven Molly found herself standing on Sherlock's door step. She reached up to ring the doorbell, but before she could the door flew open, revealing Sherlock in a purple button-down shirt.

"Come in." Sherlock stepped aside so Molly could get past. "You're early, but then I knew you would be." Molly could never tell how Sherlock knew things. Most of the time she didn't try to figure it out, but this time it was different.

Once inside Molly took off her coat. She wasn't confident in the short dress, but when she looked at how stunned Sherlock was to see her in it she relaxed a little. Sherlock led the way upstairs to the living room, where there were already two cups of tea waiting. Sherlock sat down, and Molly followed, taking the chair across from him.

"How did you know I would be here early?" Molly asked, taking a sip of tea.

Sherlock leaned back in his chair and looked at Molly. She was absolutely stunning that night. "Because I know how much you want me." Sherlock smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile—it was more like an evil smile, as if in his head he was planning to do unthinkable things to Molly.

Molly tried to ignore the look Sherlock was giving her by taking another sip of tea, but then Sherlock shot to his feet, moving so he was right in front of her. "I want you now, Molly Hooper." Molly was shocked, but Sherlock went on, "You are all I'll ever want. If I had you, I would never be bored again."

Molly almost dropped her tea. How was everything she imagined coming true? This must be a dream. Maybe she fell asleep in the tub, maybe she had dreamed the whole day. But when Sherlock put his hands up to cradle her head as he leaned in to kiss her, she knew she could never dream anything this vividly. As Sherlock's lips brushed hers, all of her senses seemed heightened. Everything looked different, almost new.

Molly wanted to run her hands through Sherlock's hair, but in her surprise at Sherlock's advances, she had forgotten to put down her cup of tea. Almost like he was reading her mind, Sherlock's hand left her face and took the cup of tea out of her hands, setting it on the table next to her. As soon as the cup was gone, her hand shot to Sherlock's hair. She had always wanted to touch his dark curls, but never had the courage to do so.

Molly slid her fingers through his hair again and again, it was so smooth and thick. Sherlock pulled Molly closer—so close it was almost as if they were one person. Suddenly Molly knew they would be one forever. She didn't need time to stop, but to keep going, to bring forth the love the two had for each other.


End file.
